The Haven

by Carol Lynch Williams

  “We’re almost there,” Abigail said. Without warning, she came to a halt and I almost ran into her. My already upset stomach turned over and I had to think positive thoughts to keep what was left of dinner down.

  “What is it?” I asked. What did she see? Someone coming to get us? The Thing?

  Abigail faced me. “This is all going to sound unusual, Shiloh. What you hear tonight will make you feel as though you are deceitful.” I heard her swallow. “But I want you to really listen.”

  I nodded even though I knew she couldn’t see me that well. I was here to save her. I could listen to what Gideon had to say.

  “Okay.”

  Abigail didn’t move. My unsettled guts twisted.

  “This could mean our lives, Shiloh. Yours and mine and Gideon’s and…”

  In the dark Abigail looked ghostlike, half there.

  “… and the rest of the Terminals.”

  An odd emotion bubbled up in my chest. “He’s said that, Abigail,” I said. I pulled courage from somewhere near my toes, where it had hidden, during the walk. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

  Abigail said, “Promise me you’ll listen. Promise me, Shiloh. With your head and heart. Promise to hear Gideon out.”

  Her tone, her intensity, alarmed me.

  “Okay,” I said. “I will.”

  She gave a quick nod. “Let’s go.”

  I followed her though my body, my head (maybe even my heart—as she said?) didn’t want to.

  I heard the low mumble of voices.

  Pain pounded behind my eyes.

  “Ready?”

  Nodding once, I followed her into a room so small, it wasn’t more than a closet.

  “Took you long enough.” There was Daniel. I saw the tiny TV he stared at reflected in his glasses.

  “You, too, Daniel?”

  He sighed like he was tired of me already. “Yes, Shiloh. I’m here for the Cause. Just like you.”

  Pictures flashed through my head. Waco burning, smoke pluming into the sky. Photos of Terminals’ parted-out bodies slumped in filth and squalor. Lines of families, dead. The Whole and Terminals alike had stood for causes. With causes. I shuddered.

  “I passed you in the hallway,” Daniel said. “Followed you awhile, then slid by. Made sure you didn’t tell.”

  “How were you going to stop me? Run over me?” It felt like ants crawled around in my stomach.

  Abigail let out a sound I had never heard anyone but the Teachers make. Her voice lilted up almost too high, the sharp sound cackling from her.

  I covered my ears. “Stop!”

  “She’s laughing, Shiloh,” Gideon said. “It’s something you can’t do, because of the Tonic.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Abigail leaned near me but I stepped away, bumping into the desk. It was too hot in here and I felt ill at ease. The noise, the laughing, made me even more agitated. “We can laugh. We can smile.” She made her face edge up, showing her teeth.

  “Don’t.” I looked at the top of Daniel’s head.

  The walls moved closer. I’d find out what this was about first. Then I’d go.

  “Don’t check up on me anymore, Daniel,” I said. I felt ruffled, like the wind had blown the wrong way through my hair.

  “He’s joking, Shiloh,” Abigail said. “It’s another thing that comes with the Tonic being out of your system. You can tease. Have fun.”

  Pressure overwhelmed me. I wanted to get away. Concentrate.

  When I left, I would take Abigail with me. I didn’t care what happened to Gideon and Daniel. Abigail and I would go and hope we never fell ill again.

  “We can’t afford any leaks,” Daniel said, his voice gruff. “We can’t be found out or we’re all doomed.”

  “Doomed?” My shoulders were heavy, weighted. I made myself speak. “A bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

  Daniel looked at Gideon. “I told you bringing too many people would make problems for us. And another female? Why did it have to be another female?”

  “What’s wrong with females?” Abigail asked but didn’t wait for an answer. “You know I wanted Shiloh here. She’s my friend. I want her to leave with us.”

  Head spinning, I leaned against the wall, steadying myself.

  Gideon almost stepped on Abigail’s words. “We’ve been over this a hundred times, Daniel. We’re doing this”—He waved his hand at me—“for all of us. I’d like her to come, too.”

  Gideon’s gaze was steady and I had to look away.

  “Sure,” Daniel said. He nodded, then shrugged. “If we survive, this is for all Terminals.”

  “So what’s going on?” I asked. My skin burned in the closed-in room. “Why are you watching TV in here?”

  “First, Shiloh, this isn’t a TV. It’s a computer. A way for us to store information and find out about the real world,” Daniel said.

  Abigail cleared her throat. “We’ve found some things out, Shiloh. About the Terminals here at school and other places, too. Around the country, around the world. Some of the hospitals are like our place. Others have horrible conditions for Terminals.”

  Gideon waited. Daniel peered at her when she spoke.

  Listen but don’t believe. “Go on.”

  She waited then said, “We’re being used. All of us here. We’re being used in awful ways.”

  For a split second my brain stopped. Everyone breathed the good air for themselves.

  We’re not taking both lungs. Just one.

  I don’t want to do this.

  It’s here for you.

  “That is crazy,” I said. My lips had turned to butter. “It’s preposterous.”

  I was hit with a memory, from how long ago, I wasn’t sure.

  “It’s preposterous,” Principal Harrison said. The Dining Hall was full of Terminals and Teachers. Along the edges, like they held up the walls, were the Whole who worked here, too.

  A break-in. Someone—a Whole male—grabbed a young female Terminal.

  “Do not begin to let it in your Terminal minds that we do anything illegal here,” the principal said in the microphone. “Haven Hospital and Halls is above reproach. We do more than other facilities in providing care.”

  Now, Gideon spoke. “Daniel and I’ve known for a while. We stopped taking our Tonic long ago. And we’ve thought of a plan. One to get us out of here and get help for the rest of the Terminals.”

  “What plan? This sounds like a lie.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I remembered more of that day.

  The Whole male hollered, causing a scene. “She’s all that’s left of my daughter.”

  “Whatever you heard,” Principal Harrison said, and he was yelling, too, “it’s all a lie.” He helped Security bring the intruder down.

  “You don’t own her.” That was Dr. King.

  “We paid for her.”

  “You both signed contracts.” Again, Dr. King.

  “Drink the Tonic,” Nurse said, and we all did. That meal. That night.

  All I wanted was dinner. If they’d just let me eat. The whole school was fuzzy. Flat.

  The memory jarred me and I stood with Abigail, Gideon, and Daniel and tried to stop remembering. It’s all a lie. I had covered my ears that day and now I raised my hands to stop those voices.

  “I swallowed Tonic until I threw up,” I said.

  “What are you talking about?” Daniel asked.

  I ignored him though I wanted to respond. “Do you have a way to leave now?”

  “Yes,” Gideon said.

  “And I want you to go.” Abigail’s face was soft in the light.

  I was a part of their secret. They had to trust me.

  Or.

  Protect this world we live in.

  I had choices. I didn’t have to do anything.

  “What else?” The wall was cool under my fingertips, rough.

  They all stood close together, touching. Touching. Abigail moved nearer to Gideon. His hand rested on Daniel
’s shoulder.

  Nausea swirled over me. “Quit, Abigail,” I said. “You’re too close to each other. The plague of 2023 started that way.”

  “I hate teaching Terminals anything new,” Daniel said, and I could hear in his voice that he meant it. “She knows only partial truths.”

  I gagged.

  “Shiloh, all these worries you have? They’re from our indoctrination,” Abigail said. Her voice was gentle. “The Tonic makes us want to vomit when we have any kind of true affection for someone. Humans are supposed to love each other. We’re supposed to touch.”

  “We’re Terminal. Not Whole.”

  Daniel let out a sigh. “They’ve taught us that. They’ve told us to think that way.”

  Gideon, whose face seemed pale in the light of the computer, said, “The Tonic is for sleeping and dreams. It takes away our natural affection and makes us obedient. Put that with the music that’s always played, the Pledge, what we’re told in classes, the low hum of voices in Isolation. What we read, what we study … it all works to control us.” He looked down, then back to me. “And we are human. We’re taught otherwise.”

  “I came with you tonight and I keep drinking the Tonic.” Gideon didn’t need to know that I had come to warn them to be obedient.

  “You’re different, Shiloh,” Abigail said. “You and I have always gone creeping around at night. You and I have always had a hard time sleeping. We’ve looked over the wall.”

  “And it’s more than obedience,” Daniel said. “Haven Hospital and Halls does more than train us.”

  “Show her,” Gideon said.

  “Show me what?”

  Daniel moved the screen so I could see better. He pulled a typewriter-like keyboard out of a drawer and pressed a few buttons. “The computer will show you, Shiloh,” he said.

  11

  The Haven Hospital & Halls logo, the one on the front of the administration building, was the first picture I saw. Daniel bent closer to the keyboard as all the colors of a rainbow swung around on the screen. A key here. Tap there. “Code,” he said, mumbling. He typed something.

  Abigail stepped closer, reaching to touch me, but I didn’t let her and she pulled back. “Watch a little of this, Shiloh. I couldn’t leave if you didn’t go with me. I need you to understand.”

  Why did she keep saying go? Where were we supposed to go to?

  “Watch the commercial on the computer screen, then decide,” she said. Her voice was a whisper. “It’s sort of like Terminal TV. We have commercials out there, advertising the Hospital and stuff. The real world has commercials, too. Some are for us. Some are against. This computer allows us to access all that information.”

  “Give me room,” I said, “I need some room. I need oxygen. We’re too packed in here.” Abigail and Gideon shuffled away. I made sure to not touch anyone. The air was hot.

  Daniel pressed a few more keys. “This machine is obsolete,” he said. “Runs waaay slow. But we’ve managed to pick up the Iservnet down here. In the admin building there are ones that fly.”

  “Fly?”

  “You know. There are computers that give you the info you need in a millisecond. Press a button, everything is there at your fingertips.”

  “They use them here?” I asked. “I thought the rays caused cancer?”

  “It’s a fallacy,” Daniel said. “They’re lying. It’s all a lie.”

  “Haven Hospital and Halls is above reproach.” My words came out weak.

  “They tell us to say that. We have to think it. They make us.” Daniel’s voice was just as strong.

  “Wait. Both of you,” Gideon said.

  “All right.” I nodded and my neck made a slight cracking noise. Already I was breaking apart. Stay calm. “So what’s at your fingertips?”

  “Information. About us,” Abigail said. “Terminals in the world.”

  “Or anything else, for that matter,” Gideon said. “The weather. The economy. World powers. Even Dr. King. Anything outside this place. Everything about this place, too.”

  The screen swirled in colors, and music began. Then came the words, SHOP SO YOU DON’T DROP.

  A female, dressed in a red to-the-floor gown, stood at a microphone. Throngs of people cheered for her as she accepted an award, and a sash that read MS. WORLD BEAUTY was placed over her head so it hung from shoulder to hip. The shot moved back, and there was Ms. World Beauty, full screen. Her face was huge. Shiny lips (Why?). Golden hair done up in curls. She looked familiar.

  “After my accident, I wondered if I would ever pageant again. Pageanting was my world.” There was a shot of an airplane burning. “No one survived this flight but me. I was burned. Disfigured.” There was a picture of her in a hospital bed, no hair, no real face. Even her eyes were gone.

  “Because I planned ahead, I can live my life still. My Replicant, my Duplicate, made this possible for me. And a Replicant will do this for you, too.”

  Daniel paused the computer. “Do you recognize her?”

  I touched my neck.

  “Do you know her?”

  “How could I know her?” The air felt like fire. No. That female had been consumed by fire.

  “You can’t remember?” Gideon said.

  “What?”

  “Think about it, Shiloh,” Gideon said, his voice just louder than the whir of the computer. “Who does she look like?”

  The woman on the screen. Her smooth blond hair. Blue eyes. Tiny nose. “She reminds me of Claudia.”

  Claudia, who had been called out four times, the final time in March of last year, and had never come back. It felt like a hand clutched my windpipe.

  Daniel nodded. “You’re so smart.” He adjusted the sound on the computer.

  “By supporting the rights of ourselves we can live, beautifully, for a long, long time,” the woman said. Her face faded. A small box popped up on the screen. REPLAY? or CLOSE? it asked.

  “Show her your clip,” Abigail said.

  “No,” Daniel said.

  “She needs to understand,” Gideon said.

  Daniel hesitated, then pressed a few buttons. Again, the screen swirled in colors, and a different music began.

  “Benefitting the World, One Human Being at a Time,” a voice said.

  An older male spoke. He looked so like Daniel in the face that I would have thought it was him.

  “When your body turns against you”—the screen flashed to the male in a hospital bed—“the first thought is suicide. My legs were my life.”

  A male ran down a grassy field, others chasing after him, their helmets reflecting bright lights. A huge crowd was on its feet.

  “Football,” Abigail said, and I nodded.

  “Then you hear, ‘You have Vibrio vulnificus, a virulent strain of bacteria,’ and the world suddenly looks different.” The scene changed with the words, and the male, asleep on a table covered in sheets, had a mask over his face. It was obvious that the surgeons were amputating his legs.

  A mask.

  I shivered. I’d fought a mask just like that.

  “Lucky for me, I invested in myself. My Replicant was there for me. And no matter what tragedy occurs, I’m ready for it.” The male walked across a field, all alone this time, tossing a football into the air as he went.

  Again the box appeared on the screen. REPLAY? or CLOSE?

  “Okay, wait a minute,” I said. The words piled into my brain, ramming into each other, trying to make sense. “Claudia was the Replicant for—” I stopped talking. My mouth went dry. It felt like the mask was back, covering my own mouth and nose again, pouring that horrid smell into my lungs—my lung.

  Daniel took off his glasses, and his eyes grew huge. “You said she was brilliant. A genius. Photographic memory and such. You said she’d figure it out if we showed her clues.”

  “Figure it out?” I didn’t want to think. Didn’t want to feel. Didn’t want to remember.

  “Listen to this, Shiloh.” Gideon played a bit of the news report. Dr. King’s fac
e appeared. “We can do anything. Face transplants, limb restoration, increased libido, even give life to those you’ve lost. If you’re prepared.”

  Face transplants, limb restoration, increased libido, even give life to those you’ve lost.

  Rocks replaced my insides. My cheeks cooled.

  “You know,” Gideon said.

  “She can’t help us,” Daniel said. “And now we’ve shown her.”

  “I’m not leaving her behind, Daniel. I’m not,” Abigail said.

  “Think!” Gideon’s voice.

  Genetic copies.

  I did not want to think.

  Replicants. Duplicates.

  “I’m going back to my room.” I would break in half in this closet. “I’m not coming here again.”

  I turned, tripping on Daniel’s wheelchair, but I caught myself.

  Gideon grabbed my arm and squeezed. Sick. I bent a little but refused to let him see what he knew he was doing. He made me face him.

  “You know, don’t you?” he asked. His breath was hotter than the room. “You know. Say it.”

  I tried to jerk free. “Let go.” My teeth clenched so hard, I thought I might lose a molar. “You know the rules. No contact between Terminals, especially between males and females.”

  “Right,” said Daniel, watching Gideon and me, “because if we loved each other, if we cared about one another, we might fight back.” He pushed away from the computer and let out a tired sigh. “I’m going to bed.”

  “Tell me what you’re thinking,” Gideon said. He hadn’t let go of my arm.

  I twisted. My stomach tried to leap from my mouth. But I couldn’t give voice to my thoughts. It was too awful. Too terminal. His grip tightened.

  “You’re hurting me, Gideon.” I tried to wrench free again. His fingers burned into my arm, all the way to the bone.

  “Tell me what you know.”

  “Stop!” Abigail said. There was no smile. “She doesn’t understand. There’s no way she can see her connection to all this.”

  “Oh, she knows,” Daniel said. “She just refuses to get it.” He opened the door and wheeled away, letting the door close with a click behind him.

  “Gideon,” Abigail said, and she pulled his hand free of my arm. “Remember how you felt.”